T'Lara and Suvak are about to be formally married on the onset of First Pon Farr...but not all is well, and T'Lara has to make a dangerous decision...
She stared at Syrak. She couldn't help it. Logical or not, she disliked him. How he'd gotten himself invited to this ceremony was a mystery, but he'd managed it, and stood there with his fa�ade of perfect, respectable logic. She held back an expression of disgust. He pretended to be Suvak's friend. He was no one's friend, especially not Suvak's. That much she knew. She knew he had designs for her mate. Designs of death. Ten others had already come to the same end. And yet, he was untouchable by the Vulcan High Council. No incident could be 'directly linked to any fault of his'. T'Lara scoffed. Of course there was no direct link. He was a killer hiding behind his airtight alibi. How dare he call himself a Vulcan? And yet, it was pure Vulcan logic that had engineered his invulnerable crime!
She calmed herself, knowing the effects of Pon Farr that were devastating her mate were breaking her own control. She glanced across the room at Suvak. He looked as composed as possible given the circumstances. The family matriarchs, a smattering of friends, and close relations were there to witness the ceremony. The time had arrived. Time to resolve the fever. And yet, such an occasion was tainted by the presence of...him! T'Lara felt sick to think of it.
The matriarch of Suvak's clan stepped forward, and began to speak. "What you are about to see comes down from the time of the Beginning..."
T'Lara's mind began to wander. Syrak had to be stopped. If he weren't, she was sure that one day, Suvak would not come home. But how could she stop him? She was the only one who knew his secret intentions!
"This is the Vulcan heart, this is the Vulcan soul..."
An idea rose from the depths of T'Lara's mind. It might work. Suvak had to defend himself before self-defense was needed. It would horrify and surprise all present, especially Suvak. But it could work. Syrak was not outstanding in strength. Suvak was considerably his equal, if not easily his superior. Something needed to be done. Syrak must be stopped.
"...This is our way," the matriarch crooned. She paused, then added into the silence, "Kali-farr!"
This was the signal. Now or never. According to ceremony, Suvak was to ring the gong to signal the ceremony's commencement. She swallowed. It was now or never. She chose now.
There was a startled silence as she stepped between him and the gong. The guests and family members looked at each other with questioning glances. Such a thing was only done when the woman doubted the worthiness of her mate. With the declaration of 'Kali-fi', T'Lara would name a challenger to fight Suvak.
T'Lara paused, then spoke the words. "Kali-fi."
If it could possibly get quieter, it did. According to tradition, Suvak stepped back from the gong. T'Lara could see the beginnings of plak-tau, blood fever, on his face.
The matriarch, displeasure written subtly on her face, stepped forward. "T'Lara, you have chosen the Kali-fi. Are you prepared to become the property of the victor?"
T'Lara hesitated. If Syrak won...she withheld a shudder. She would not think of it. But it must go on. He must be stopped!
"I am prepared," she said quietly. She dropped her gaze. It was done. The matriarch turned to Suvak.
"Suvak, do you accept the Kali-fi according to our laws and customs?"
Through the daze of oncoming plak-tau, he responded in the affirmative. T'Lara caught his expression, a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and confusion. She felt a deep stab of guilt. Kali-fi was a challenge to the death. Any opponent she named would fight Suvak, and the one left alive would take her as his mate. Permanently. It was her only method of making Syrak get what he deserved. It was risky, but it was the only way.
The matriarch turned to her again, now appearing more curious, and with good reason. No one in the room could possibly imagine whom T'Lara would choose as her champion to challenge Suvak. The two, though bonded at an early age, had grown to be a perfect match. T'Lara had said so herself only yesterday.
"T'Lara, you will choose your champion."
T'Lara swallowed and nodded. She forced herself to cross the circle of guests toward Syrak. She stopped in front of him and extended a finger. "As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, and as it will be for all tomorrows, I make my choice." She hesitated, regretting the words she was about to speak. "I choose this one."
The shock on Suvak's face was unmistakable. T'Lara hated what she had done. It was too late. There was no turning back. She had named her challenger. They would fight to the death. She only hoped the death would not be Suvak's.
"It is done. Syrak, decide," the matriarch said, voice suddenly very stiff. T'Lara needed not look in her direction to know that the old woman did not agree with T'Lara's choice.
"I promise I will explain, Suvak, the gods willing you live to hear my explanation..." she said quietly to herself as the ceremony took a brief time out to let Syrak decide whether or not to accept the Kali-fi. T'Lara knew what he would choose. The prospect of getting to T'Lara, the only one who knew his secret, would win him over. He would accept. Suvak had to win!
"I accept the Kali-fi," he said finally. The matriarch nodded."Here begins the act of combat for possession of the woman T'Lara. As it was at the time of the Beginning, so it is now. Bring forth the lirpa."
T'Lara's heart throbbed in her throat as two guards brought forth the ceremonial weapons, each handing one to the two combatants. Suvak seemed to welcome the lirpa. Plak-tau now dominated his mind.
"If both survive the lirpa, the combat will continue with the ahn-wun. It has begun, let no one interfere."
T'Lara restrained her concern as the two stepped into the center of the ring, watching each other, checking for a weakness. Syrak had the benefit of clear, logical thought, against the rush of strength and drive that held Suvak in its iron grip. T'Lara now was not so certain of the wisdom of her actions. What if...she shoved the potential thought away. Suvak would win. He must win. He had to. She clasped her hands together as she watched, helpless.
"What a fool I am..." she whispered to herself. She could barely force herself to watch.
With a sudden lunge at Syrak, Suvak initiated the battle's start. There was a general shuffle of anticipation as the guests watched grimly. T'Lara's mind raced. What if Syrak was some sort of expert lirpa warrior? Would Suvak be able to think clearly? She glanced at the matriarch of Suvak's clan. She too watched, curiosity etched subtly into her weathered face. T'Lara swallowed. Should she tell her why she had chosen to do such a thing?
A firm thud drew her attention back to the fight just in time for her to see Syrak dive rolling to dodge what would have been a deadly blow. She trembled. She had to tell. This had to be stopped!
With the entire group fixedly watching the battle, she slinked over to the matriarch, and tapped her shoulder.
"Yes?" she said with an altogether unpleasant tone. T'Lara looked at her feet.
"Please, this must be stopped! I didn't call Kali-fi because I doubted Suvak!"
The elderly Vulcan woman's expression did not change. "It cannot be stopped. They will fight until one of them is dead."
"But I must explain! Please! You must listen to me! I called Kali-fi to protect Suvak, not get him killed!"
"That statement is illogical," the woman said bluntly. "You know Kali-fi is fatal to the loser. Risking his life to 'protect' him is illogical."
"If I hadn't, Syrak would have killed him for sure! At least now he stands a chance of surviving!"
The matriarch lifted a slender eyebrow. "Clarify."
* * *
How could it be?
Suvak dodged a lunge, missing an attack by inches. Heart throbbing in his throat, he tried not to reflect on the words that ricocheted in his mind. He could still hear T'Lara saying it.
Kali-fi.
An enraged shriek escaped him as he took a swipe at Syrak. He'd believed that T'Lara loved him. He'd believed that they would be wed today, at the onset of full maturity, the onset of first Pon Farr. And she had betrayed him for this...this...
He growled in rage and took another swipe, the lirpa's blade missing Syrak by mere centimeters. Syrak staggered back, regaining his footing, and took a vicious slash, but caught only part of Suvak's clothing. The ring of spectators went largely unnoticed as his blood burned with ire. How could this be happening?
His body went rigid for a split second as he felt the slash of the blade rake his left bicep, nearly causing his good arm to drop the lirpa. Syrak had drawn first blood. That was an ill omen. He looked up and rolled out of the way just in time to miss a fatal plunge. Suvak slashed. His blade caught skin. Syrak cried out in pain, limping back a few steps. Suvak staggered to his own feet, looking his opponent over. Syrak's thigh was quickly becoming saturated with green. It was a deep wound. His mobility was limited. He was vulnerable. Suvak dashed in for the kill. Syrak was ready.
It was a quick move. Syrak, though wounded, limped out of the way as Suvak barreled towards him. A solid blow on the back threw Suvak from his feet, sending him sprawling. His lirpa clattered out of his reach. A foot planted itself between his shoulder blades.
"I'll make this fast," Syrak said, turning the blade downward towards Suvak's skull. For a moment, Suvak laid there. T'Lara had betrayed him. Was it worth fighting for a woman who did not love him? Would it not be better to die right here?
A sting of guilt rippled through his mind. Her mental bond with him was strong. It felt...felt like there was more to this...something screamed for him to not give up.
Not even thinking, his body seized upwards and quickly jerked to the side, missing the blow, and throwing Syrak off balance. Suvak lunged for his lirpa, and their blades connected with a clash. The feeling in his mind was writhing now. Careful...careful...survive. Strike!
He struck. He did not know why. There was a sickening slap-pop as the lirpa's blade met soft tissue, then withdrew. Syrak groaned in agony, crumpling to his knees in a growing pool of blood. Suvak stood, numbed, as his opponent flashed him a terrified, infuriated look, then wavered, collapsed, and died.
Suvak stood there, lirpa dripping, torn bicep oozing his own blood, and mind screaming infinite relief. He had won.
* * *
The guests were all aware that as Suvak stood, panting, regaining his strength, T'Lara stood apart from the group, talking to the old matriarch. She nodded and seemed to frown as T'Lara went on, explaining herself. Finally she straightened and spoke in a low voice. "This information will not be made public. We should disclose it only to Suvak."
T'Lara nodded. "But the ceremony must go on."
The matriarch nodded as well. "And it shall. He shall chose whether or not he still wishes to marry you after the Kali-fi was called."
T'Lara looked momentarily uncertain. "He does not know why I did it."
For the first time, the old woman looked almost pleased. "Suvak is intelligent. I believe he knows your preference to avoid Syrak, and felt your relief when he won. He will know there is more to it."
* * *
The room was empty except for T'Lara, Suvak, and the matriarch. To T'Lara, even the presence of the old Vulcan woman seemed to be one person too many. Suvak's bicep had been bandaged, and the plak-tau that had possessed him only minutes ago was nearly gone. He was calm and logical again, but something of his expression seemed stern and doubtful. He stepped toward T'Lara.
"Why did you call Kali-fi?"
T'Lara looked to the old matriarch, who shook her head. T'Lara would have to explain by herself. "I...knew something that you didn't. Your life was in danger."
Suvak stared for a moment. "That does not clarify why you nearly sent me to my death."
T'Lara swallowed. Though the Pon Farr fever was abating, she still felt a twinge of guilt. "Dear Suvak, it is so hard to explain. It starts with Syrak."
Suvak nodded for her to continue.
"I found the connection that the Vulcan High Council could not find between him and those ten unexplained deaths. I will explain in detail about that later, if you'll hear me. Suvak, he knew that I knew about him. If his secret was to stay safe, he would have to kill me. To get to me, he knew he would have to go through you. You were next, Suvak. I could not let him succeed."
"So you sent me out to fight him? That is not logical at all."
"Please," T'Lara pleaded. "You must understand. He would never kill with his own two hands. He would do it in some way that could not be traced back to him, and you would be dead, never having had a chance to defend yourself. If you killed him before he killed you, you would be guilty of murder and possibly executed by the Council. Either way, if you died, the breaking of our mental bond...would have killed me."
She touched his bandaged bicep gently. "I felt that when you felt it. I felt your fear, your anger, your disappointment, your embarrassment. I felt it when you almost decided to quit. And... I felt your relief when at last you won. You defended yourself from a murderer and won, completely within the law, and by winning, protected perhaps many more innocent people. And you protected me."
Her face was close to his as she said quietly at last, "I only did it because it had to be done. Do you still want me?"
Suvak did not answer for several seconds. T'Lara stared, eyes pleading with him. Finally, he gave a small smile.
"It's twisted logic, but in the heat of Pon Farr, I can imagine no wiser action. I would have no other for my mate. I love you."
Even the matriarch had to stifle an approving expression as the two shared a gentle kiss.
